Understanding forms

 “Monks, understanding form, having knowledge regarding it, eradicating [desire for] it,21 being free from desire for it, one is able to go beyond the dread of birth, old age, disease and death.22 Monks, understanding it, having knowledge regarding it, being free from desire and lust for it, one will liberate the mind and be able to go beyond the dread of birth, old age, disease and death.23 In the same way understanding feeling ... perception ... formations ... consciousness, having knowledge regarding it, eradicating [desire for] it, being free from desire and lust for it, one will liberate the mind and be able to go beyond the dread of birth, old age, disease and death." (4. [Second Discourse on Not Understanding]19)

On the Five Aggregates (1) — A Translation of Saṃyukta-āgama Discourses 1 to 32

sa01.pdf (uni-hamburg.de)

This passage reminds me of Spinoza, who also attributed passive emotions (like being drawn into something, or desire, or a passion) to a lack of understanding or knowledge. To be drawn emotionally is to be drawn into a specific view of the world that is locked in, or somehow fixed. Liberation from that view often requires stepping away from desire to embrace it in a more distant way.

How does this work? Perhaps what it means is that understanding the impermanent nature of form allows us to feel less desire for forms. Forms, after all, are like images that make impressions on the mind briefly, only to be replaced with other forms. It's when I am less attached to forms that I am also less fearful toward death as well as life itself. If a person is truly in vexation, it means that they are wrapped up in forms: in likes, dislikes, wanting this, not wanting that, and also wanting to protect my body from things I don't want or deem as unpleasant. If I can contemplate all these forms as ever-changing and in a dream, would I be so attached to them? 

To put it in a more practical way, whenever I am suffering or in distress (or anxious) about something, I might ask the questions: what forms am I attached to? What sensations arise as a result of those forms? What do I perceive as happening, and how might these forms relate back to a sense of self that is being impacted by these very same forms?

Impermanence and "Sense of Security"

   I truly feel that, in a world of impermanence, the only security one can truly find is within. Chang Wu Fashi was sharing tonight about how one way that one can be mindful in their day to day life is by always anchoring themselves in the sense of the body, and knowing whether the body is truly relaxed or not. A person may tell themselves that they are "relaxed", but how do they really and truly feel in that moment? Fashi's point is that the body is very honest--it will always tell us what is true of an experience, and does not advertise itself falsely. When you drop a hammer on your foot, you can't "pretend" that the pain is simply not there. One of the greatest sources of security that one can seek is within their heartfelt sense of the body, unadulterated by the swirl of thoughts and imaginary scenarios. No matter where my mind goes and what it thinks, the body is always indelibly here in this moment.

   Another point is that happiness and "security" are not from outside. I have often subconsciously sought out reassurance that I am okay from those around me, leading me to wonder if I am "not okay" when I don't receive such kinds of external assurances. The truth is, this desire for assurance itself is a source of suffering and pain. Even when I do feel secure and reassured that things in my job are okay, this is not a guarantee that I will find that same reassurance tomorrow. I think there's a certain value here in analyzing just what that feeling of reassurance is, and whether or not we can mimic it through a kind of self-talk.

   Reassurance, to me, comes from being grounded. We have all experienced at some point or another, a person who grounded us, by not going along with our anxious thoughts. Instead, that person pointed the path where their feet were firmly pointed. When I am aware that there is no need to entertain every possibility or be a prisoner to reacting to my thoughts, then I am naturally reassured: I am here, and there is nowhere else that I need to be, and no "fire" to put out or fan out. Of course, it may not be as simple as "feeling my body", but this reassurance might take the form of deciding to take things one step at a time rather than entertaining every panic scenario under the sun. It also might mean being happy for the small things. Even if I lose my job tomorrow, I am able-bodied enough now that I can take a new one. Even if I am not able-bodied now, there is no such thing as disabled: all humans are enables in some way or another. So, the point is that there is no point where we cannot hold hope for something or at least find comfort in some simple matter of life.

Form as Impermanent

 “You should contemplate form as impermanent. One who contemplates like this has right insight. One who has right insight arouses disenchantment. One who has disenchantment eradicates delight and lust. One who eradicates delight and lust, I say, liberates the mind" (source : Samyukta-agama, sa01.pdf (uni-hamburg.de)

   What does it mean to contemplate "form" as impermanent? What, indeed, is form? When I think about this question from a Western mindset, I reflect on the difference between form and matter--form being what "shapes" matter into a discernable identity. I am sure that most students have at some time or another come across the metaphor of a potter or sculptor: just as the clay is "formless" unless I actively shape it into a pot or other form, so also form is the requirement of identity. 

   Form is in fact the marker of identity. So what does "contemplate form as impermanent" entail? First of all, forms do not have an underlying, enduring substance. They change from one moment to the next. The "essence", if anything, is mind. This is different from what a materialist might think. For example, I see a chair, and I assume that the form it takes is reflective of some underlying substance that endures, even when I don't look at the chair. From a Buddhist perspective, this is not the case: if there is no mind to contemplate or recognize "the chair", then how might the chair be said to have an independent existence? Here, the form itself is impermanent because it appears in mind when the right conditions emerge. 

Agama Sutra also mentions that the insight into no form "arouses disenchantment" which in turn "eradicates delight and lust". I think this means that when a person recognizes that the forms are arising in mind, there is nothing to hold onto or to chase. In fact, the images don't relate to an enduring external reality or "thing", any more than a chair is thought to have an independent existence. This creates a natural sense of disenchantment, but I don't think this translates to the disenchantment of turning away from things. Rather it is a more grounded and realistic idea that appearances constantly change, and there is nothing graspable within those appearances. If I keep thinking about an earlier thought that has passed, I fail to see that it's already gone.

The Importance of "Awareness"

  When I am thinking about the idea of awareness, I think about the Zen analogy of birds in the sky. In order to see birds as "birds", a person must also see the sky as the background upon which they fly. Without that background, one will get caught up in the details of the birds without properly contextualizing the bird as part of an unfolding background.

   What's the "background" of each thought? It relates to the idea that all of one's thoughts are created by mind, and sustained by mind. In essence, what I think about the world is a reflection of my self and the way I think. I am fond of the idea that no two people see the same painting, the same food, the same television program, etc. in the same way, because what one sees is a projection of all the complex memories and experiences they have had. In essence, not to recognize this is to confuse the phenomena and think that it is entirely external. This also leads to an attitude of taking things to be "truth" without examining the extent to which they are cultural or socially-mediated representations. 

    The value of Buddhist teachings, for me, lies in the reminder that what triggers thoughts are often previous thinking about something--patterns, in essence. I will use the example of someone who is preparing a wedding. When a person typically prepares for a wedding, they are not just shopping for clothes or a dress, or a ring. Instead, they are sifting their thoughts for a particular experience they want to have that they can remember for life. I remember someone telling me that her friend had already prepared her wedding--what it would look like, what dress she would wear, etc.--and all she needed was the person to marry! This is a fitting analogy in essence, for how people might think about their present experiences. I already bring to the present moment my previous expectations and assumptions. The present experience is often simply fit into the past expectations, as a hand would fit into a glove. If those expectations are left unexamined or unexposed, a person will end up imposing a particular view or idea onto something or someone that has nothing to do with it. And these ideas are often connected to one's desires.

   Awareness is the important context to remind oneself: 

a. One's experiences are often colored by previous learning, assumptions, etc. which in turn give rise to expectations

b. One often projects things within themselves which have very little to do with the forms they are observing. In fact, human beings are more complicated than this and cannot be reduced to a person's thoughts or impressions of them.

c. Being aware also means that the thoughts are seen as transient and always changing. I don't cling to thoughts like they are the be all and end all. I practice simply letting go of whatever thoughts come to the imagination, to really get a direct experience that they are always flowing in and out of the mind.

The importance of meditation as a practice of observing the flow of thoughts cannot be overstressed!